


Hold Me

by Not_You



Series: A Gentleman of Negotiable Virtue [5]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Feels, M/M, conniving Charles, erik can still cook, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the simplest things that are the hardest to ask for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me

"Are you out of your mind?"

"You know, Emma asked just the same thing."

"Jesus. Oh well. Come get me, introduce me to your stabby new boytoy."

Charles sighs. "Sister, I love you, but you're on thin ice."

"Oh, all right. Your self-defending sex worker 'just friend'. I'm at the bus station on a borrowed cellphone. I'll be out front, 'kay?"

"Okay," Charles says, scribbling a note for Erik and grabbing his keys. He's used to fetching Raven at odd times, and had been expecting Erik's early morning call to be her, or the one he has always dreaded, where someone calls to tell him she's dead in some out of the way and dangerous place. At least today she's just standing outside the bus station, and waves. She's carrying one duffle bag, and is dressed in a peasant blouse and a flowing skirt.

"What happened to your leather, little sister?"

"I wound up in the southwest," she says, loading up. "It got too hot."

Charles laughs and hugs her. "Anything we should pick up on the way home?"

"Just so long as there's food in the kitchen."

"I promise my pet hooker hasn't eaten it all."

"Oh, Charles. Don't become hard and cynical in your old age. What's he like, anyway? I mean, I knew you were going to Hellfire, but I wasn't going to give you the third degree about it."

"He's very beautiful and intelligent," Charles says dryly, making a turn.

"Well, of course. You like him enough to take him in."

"He plays chess, he speaks Yiddish and German besides English, and he has always been very good to me."

"I see." She laughs, and spends the rest of the drive updating Charles on her travels. Raven will go anywhere at any time with anyone. She terrifies him, but always brings back amazing stories. And occasionally an entourage. They're always nice kids (even the forty-year-old Hell's Angels), but he's glad to avoid the additional complication right now. They come home to lights and motion in the kitchen, and Raven perks up, doing her best impression of a curious kitten. She slings her bag around her chest and follows Charles up the ramp.

"Erik?"

"Here!" He comes to the doorway, wiping his hands on a dishrag. "I've got my stuff in a guest room, but I can move it if—" He blinks at Raven. "Hi."

She grins. "Hey. I'm the degenerate sister. Whatcha makin'?"

"Just a casserole," he says, shaking the hand she thrusts out at him. "Any allergies?"

"Just so long as there's no watermelon in it," Raven says, heading past him to inspect the oven and its contents.

"Why would there—"

"Haven't been here long, have you?"

Charles rolls his eyes. "The recipe _called_ for apple, Raven, I didn't just introduce fruit out of the blue!"

Erik smiles down at him. "Culinary misadventures?"

"We had to sort of make it up as we went." He rolls into the kitchen after Raven. "Besides, it's not as if I ever tried to get away with 'Cajun blackened' quiche."

Erik laughs. "Oh, you poor little rich children."

"Which room did you pick?" Charles asks, setting the table.

"The one a couple doors down from you, with the view over the pond."

"Excellent choice, and no need to move. Raven has her own room, and you're my only guest."

Dinner with Raven there is different, of course. Less tense and more familial, and it suddenly strikes him that it seems as if Erik has always been here. A little over a year of weekly appointments with only a few cancellations (and one extremely memorable walk-in on a slow day) seems scandalously short to be in love with the man and like plenty of time. He sighs, nibbling at the silky chicken as Erik explains all about schmaltz to Raven and how it's best with a goose but will work for any bird, and tries not to think about how much he'll miss Erik once he's back on his feet and gone.

It seems so odd to have a quiet evening in when Erik is going to be tried for murder, but the storm hasn't broken yet and there is nothing to stop them from making popcorn and watching old movies until Raven is passed out snoring on the loveseat and Charles finds himself leaning on Erik as if they sit like this every night. He can't help but shiver.

"Cold?" Erik murmurs, and Charles can't even be sure if Erik is playing with him or not.

"A little," he says, and lets Erik wrap them both in the throw that resides on the back of the couch, the motion settling him even closer. Erik's arm is loosely wrapped around Charles's waist, and his grip tightens a bit now, making it the most natural thing in the world to snuggle in against his chest, arms wrapped around all that sinuous strength. He pretends to doze off there, just to feel how warm and still Erik is. Just his breath and his heartbeat, so rare for Charles. When a man is being paid for his time he tends to do his best to earn it, and Charles can't quite bring himself to pay to be quietly held.

"You awake?" Erik murmurs after the sleep timer has switched the tv off. Charles doesn't reply, waiting to be roused. He's not expecting Erik to chuckle softly and scoop him up, and almost gasps and gives himself away. As it is he's sure Erik will notice the way his heart is hammering, but apparently he doesn't, just cradling Charles close and making his way up to the bedroom.


End file.
